


Like Chocolate

by KannaOphelia



Category: Original Work
Genre: A lovingly squishes B's flabby belly, Age Difference, Ager gap: older partner is fatter, As well as a kink, Belly Kink, Belly worship, Character A is self-conscious of their rounded belly but Character B finds it comforting and sexy, Coming over belly, Coming together in both senses from a shared love of books and cake, Fat Man's Cock Looks Tiny Under His Belly, Fat body worship, Feeding as a sign of care, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Hand Feeding, Just the two guys but I combined three pairings from the request, Lamingtons, Library Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Recipe included in end notes, Ridiculously sweet really, Semi-Public Sex, Smaller partner fascinated by stomach, So much cake eating, Stretch mark worship, Stuffing - First Time Realizing They Kink On It, Tender reassurance about weight, Written for a belly kink exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27740461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KannaOphelia/pseuds/KannaOphelia
Summary: It was good. Really good. The sponge was perfectly golden, its texture as light and sweet as a summer sun shower. The edges were moist with the chocolate sauce they had been soaked in, sweet and sugary and with just a tiny hint of bitterness, Jake must have used really good chocolate, and the nuttiness of the coconut contrasted perfectly in texture. Deceptively easy to eat, feeling like he was hardly chewing anything at all, and absolutely delicious. He finished the large cube before he had even realised it, and worse, caught himself gathering the sticky coconut off his fingers with his tongue.Jake was leaning slightly forward, touching his lip with his tongue. David could feel the blood burning in his cheeks. For a moment he had forgotten his self-consciousness in his delight, and now he realised he was a plump man, scarfing down cake in public like he was starving. He had probably dropped a thousand flakes of desiccated coconut onto his belly.  And Jake was staring at him hungrily. Poor boy probably never touched his own baking, to maintain a figure like his."You should have one too," David said awkwardly. "It can hardly be fun for you, sitting and watching me eat.""Try me."
Relationships: Chubby Male Librarian/Male Book-lover Who Turns Out to be a Belly-Lover Too, Overworked Older Male Character/His Young Male Subordinate who Keeps Bringing Him Cake, Young and Fit Male/Soft Older Chubby Guy
Comments: 24
Kudos: 58
Collections: We <3 Bellies - Round 1





	Like Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HogwartsToAlexandria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/gifts).



> Hi HogwartsToAlexandria, I took you at your word and played mix and match with your requests. I hope you like the results! Thank you for requesting so many lovely tags in this lovely exchange. <3
> 
> Soundtrack to writing this was [Chocolate](https://youtu.be/WjhmB0JlCTo) by Kylie Minogue.

"Did you like the chocolate mud cake?"

David tried not to jump too obviously as the voice hummed in his ear. No one went up to the first-floor Young Adult section at this time of day, and he had vanished inside his own head and daydreams for a while as he shelved, and hearing the source of the daydreams right behind him sent a guilty flush to his cheeks. It didn't help that Jake always managed to sound provocative without in the least intending to do so. He just had one of those chocolate-coated voices, even with the chocolate layered over a broad Australian accent. David was not the kind of man that ludicrously beautiful young men flirted with, even out of habit, and he was resigned to that.

"It was delicious. What are you doing here on your day off?"

"I came to pick up some books on hold. And that's all I'm getting? Come on, tell me more." Jake's voice was not just chocolate-coated, it was dipped in the richest, darkest bittersweet chocolate. "I worked hard on that cake. Tell me it was the richest, moistest, most sensual cake you ever ate." He rested a hand on each of Jake's shoulders, his superior height looming. Really, Australians were so _handsy_. Or perhaps it was just that he was a stuffy old Pom, as Jake had told him the other week. His friendly tone should have leached out the poison from that, but it had still left a painful abscess that David nursed carefully. Stuffy, middle-aged--fat, boring, balding, his mind added. Enough of his exes had told him so. Certainly not someone who should be daydreaming about someone young and clever and handsome, no matter how much Jake seemed to like him. Jake liked _everyone._

David sighed and turned away from the shelving trolley. "Really, Jake. Carrie didn't do any of the shelving she was supposed to do _again_ , and I must get this done."

"Shouldn't let the shelvers take advantage of you like that." Jake looked almost sour for a moment, and then his face bloomed back into its usual warmth. "'cept me. Because I think you're nice and I bring you cake."

"Hmm. I shouldn't let you get around me like that. I've gained twelve pounds since you started working here." David patted his belly self-consciously, dismally aware that it was doing its best to fully escape over the top of even his new belt, which was cutting uncomfortably in. Even with his shirt untucked, he was afraid it left hideous bulges.

He regretted the gesture as soon as he noticed those oddly bright blue eyes fixed where his hand was touching. Why did he always draw attention exactly where he least wanted it to be? All Jake said, he tone a little odd with discomfort, was "You wear it well. C'mon, you're my best critic. How am I to get better if no one eats my baking?"

"I'm sure Vi and Wendy will, if you leave it downstairs."

"I gave them some, but no one appreciates my cakes the way you do."

David flushed, wondering if it was a jab at his weight... but no. Jake didn't make nasty, passive-aggressive little jabs. He was as open as day, and straightforward to a fault, even when it meant rudeness. It made David feel safe with him, never having to guess his meanings.

"I brought lamingtons," Jake wheedled. "Can't reject that, it's my culture." _Cul-chur_ , he pronounced it, and it was so oddly adorable in that rich dark voice that David found himself yielding. He always did give in to Jake. Would hand him the moon on a stick, if he could. Which was the worst of it, he always responded to infatuations like that, wanting to give and do anything for the person he fixated on. A string of heartbreak and unhappy relationships should have taught him to be wary, to give in less.

But Jake _was_ , in his way, safe. He was so completely out of David's league that there was no reason to court rejection, no chance of an idol turning our to have feet of clay. He could just be Jake's boss, and his friend, and enjoy how pleasant he was to be around. And his cake.

"I suppose I can't resist learning more about your culture, if you have one," David said, and Jake's face split in a blinding grin.

"You'll love them. I got homesick and stayed up all night making them. I never want to see chocolate syrup again."

They ended up in a little reading nook, hidden from the stairs. In their wisdom, the library designers had put the YA section on a floor on its own, with lots of secluded corners with couches scattered about. From four to eight, a ridiculous amount of library time was spent separating lovesick young couples and asking them to go somewhere more private. Normally it was just an annoyance, but seeing that some of his daydreams had been centring around Jake and the couches, David felt distinctly awkward perching on one now.

Jake sat easily opposite him. He'd already left a huge mustard yellow Tupperware on the table ready, damn him. He popped and peeled back the lid, revealing a remarkable amount of big brown cubes of cake, heavily sprinkled with coconut.

"I really shouldn't," David tried again. He'd accepted food in the library only begrudgingly, knowing he had to give in to modern notions. Ebooks had been a much sweeter pill to swallow than snacks, especially after he realised he could have hundreds of books on him at all time. But eating sticky cakes almost white with coconut was an invitation to unacceptable mess, and he had to set an example as the only full librarian in the team.

They did smell awfully good. The fresh, warm scent of newly baked sponge wafted through the library, making his mouth water.

"Can't be all work and no play. What's life without a bit of sugar? I'll help you make up for lost time afterwards."

David sighed, picked up a cube, and bit in.

It was good. Really good. The sponge was perfectly golden, its texture as light and sweet as a summer sun shower. The edges were moist with the chocolate sauce they had been soaked in, sweet and sugary and with just a tiny hint of bitterness, Jake must have used really good chocolate, and the nuttiness of the coconut contrasted perfectly in texture. Deceptively easy to eat, feeling like he was hardly chewing anything at all, and absolutely delicious. He finished the large cube before he had even realised it, and worse, caught himself gathering the sticky coconut off his fingers with his tongue.

He looked up to see if Jake was disgusted. Instead, the boy was leaning slightly forward, touching his lip with his tongue. David could feel the blood burning in his cheeks. For a moment he had forgotten his self-consciousness in his delight, and now he realised he was a plump man, scarfing down cake in public like he was starving. He had probably dropped a thousand flakes of desiccated coconut onto his belly. And Jake was staring at him hungrily. Poor boy probably never touched his own baking, to maintain a figure like his.

"You should have one too," David said awkwardly. "They are exceptional, like all your baking."

"Yeah, nah. By the time I'd finished dipping and rolling them, I was sick of the sight of them. But it does me good to see you enjoying them." Jake pushed the Tupperware even closer. "Go on, mate."

"It can hardly be fun for you, sitting and watching me eat on your day off."

"Try me."

David picked up another lamington. "Shouldn't you be studying?"

Jake immediately launched into an account of the themes of some obscure Australian beatnik novel he was writing about for his degree, and David was so entranced he almost didn't notice the second lamington vanishing. That was another of the things about Jake. He looked and sounded like some stereotypical surfer, and David gathered in many ways that he was, but he baked, and was intimidatingly intelligent, with a ferocious love of books. Exactly the kind of person who decided to become a librarian, and exactly the kind who was least suited for a job in which you were surrounded by books with no time to read them, although Jake's gregariousness might serve him well in the current profession. David reached absently for a third cake. It was a dying profession anyway, Jake would be better off studying practically anything else, but he certainly was a blast of sunshine in the library.

The laminations were like sunshine, too, he thought a little light-headedly. Sweet and golden and with a subtle bite to them. He'd been so lucky that Jake had moved to the town when his mother in Australia had died, to study somewhere close to his father.

Jake reached across and gently brushed coconut from the curve of David's belly, and David came to himself with a jolt.

"Oh, _dear._ I've made such a mess..." He sought vainly for a napkin or tissue to remove the chocolate and coconut from his fingers.

Jake shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Keep the cleaners in a job."

"But my hands are a mess. I need to wash them,"

Jake reached out and caught one of his hands in his, and then lifted it to his mouth. Still light-headed, David watched Jake part his lips, and suck the mess from one fingertip after another, working slowly down to each knuckle, swirling his tongue against the base before moving onto the next finger. David felt like he had accidentally wandered into one of his own fantasies, but he couldn't have imagined this wet velvet warmth, the occasional scrape of teeth that swelled his cock in a rush of heat. Jake's blue eyes were narrowed in concentration, the long brassy hair making him look oddly angelic, but this was not angelic at all, this was... this was highly inappropriate in the workplace. David told himself to pull his hand back sharply, buthe sat motionless, letting his hand be turned over, watching Jake swirl his tongue, ticklish and exquisite, over the palm.

Jake released his hand and sat back. "See, oldest methods are best," he said cheerfully, as if nothing had just happened. "Have another."

"I couldn't possibly. I'm full." In fact, he felt slightly sick, whether with fullness or panic.

"Oh, I think you could." Those eyes were shining like... David tried to think of shining blue things, and failed. His brain didn't feel particularly sharp. The floating feeling was still there, making him dizzy. "For me?" The lilt at the end of the sentence wasn't just his accent, it was pleading, and David reached out again is if controlled. He brought a lamington to his mouth, and bit in. God, it was delicious. But by this point he felt like he'd eaten a full cake. Just how much had Jake baked? "Oh, you _good_ , lovely man," Jake breathed, and oh God, David was so glad the overhang of his belly shielded the twitch of his cock.

He ate the whole thing, unable to look directly at Jake, to see that avid, hungry look. It was all right, after all. He was just snacking... He picked up the fifth cake without being prompted. "So good," Jake said, "so good. I bet it tastes wonderful, doesn't it? You know, I made three batches before I was happy, before I made some I was sure were worthy of you."

"They're perfect," David said, and blurted out, "like you."

"Nah, you're the perfect one. So hard-working, so good, so clever, so kind. Look at you eating for me." Jake put a hand under his chin and pressed his thumb there, as if to feel his jaw chewing. David swallowed, and Jake made a sharp sound of pleasure. "That's right. I love cooking for you, you know. Looking after you. You work so hard, and you need someone to look after you." Oh, his voice was oozing chocolate. "Tell me you don't have anyone?" He picked up a sixth cake, although David hadn't finished the third. "No one to care for you as you deserve? You're too nice to be alone."

"There's no one." His voice was a strange whisper in his head.

"Don't worry. You have me now." Jake lifted the lamington to David's lips. It _couldn't_ be real, it had to be one of his own fantasies. Except his fantasies had involved sudden kisses, frantic wordless hand-jobs in the nooks. All someone like him could hope for, really, if he was lucky enough to touch someone like Jake in the first place. He had never dreamed of being fed, not the strange fierce tenderness in Jake's expression, the feeling of being doted on as cake was held to his lips.

His temperature was rising uncomfortably, his face and chest and most of all where the heat was trapped against his legs and under the shelter of his belly, where he was aware he was hardening. He didn't know if hoped Jake wouldn't notice, or desperately wanted him to. He _ached_ , and there was an ache in his overfull belly, too. Greedy, he always felt guilty if he ate even two small cakes, aware of his weight, but Jake wasn't judging, Jake looked _proud_ as he pressed bite after bite on him, and how was David to resist? Jake was so lovely, and so was the cake. David had the floating feeling that Jake was taking all the responsibility from him, all the guilt, and all he had to do was submit and chew and swallow and _enjoy_.

"Love baking for you," Jake said. "Love knowing I'm making you something _nice_ , spoiling you. I notice you, you know. Always too kind, making up for people's shifts, listening to our problems, doing the work of three men. Still patient enough to smile when the kids flock to you, and then clean up all that bloody glitter after craft time. Looking after everyone. Kindest, most patient bloke I ever met." That voice, rich and broad all at once, was almost hypnotic in its kindness. "But you always feel bad about enjoying yourself or treating yourself, don't you? Dying of guilt over every little bite. It's a crying shame. Someone as good and soft as you needs someone taking care of _you_ , spoiling you, making you happy. Didn't mean to tell you all this here and now," Jake added apologetically. "Mean to invite you home for dinner, cook for you. Had it all planned out. Full roast with all the trimmings, Pom style, and then triple chocolate mousse. Candles to make it romantic. Was going to feed the mousse to you with a spoon and then taste it right out of your mouth. Would you like that?"

"Yes." It came straight from David's gut, as his cock twitched in response.

"Can't stop thinking about it, you know, how happy you look over every little nice thing, how I can make your eyes look with a slice of cake I made myself. Thinking about how sweet you are, what kind of cuddles you'd give. Thinking about how much I want to look after you always, feed you up, hold you, fuck you."

How could this strange young man say such things such an everyday tone? Here, in the library, where a customer or kid or Vi could come up at any minute, see him sitting, being fed like a pet or small child, opening his mouth obediently, leaking into his trousers.

"What to feed you other things, too. Want to see how you look when you're swallowing me down, the noises you'd make with that pink tongue up my arse. I bet you'd make great sounds." Dear God. David really was in pain now, erection trapped exquisitely, his stomach swollen and painful, cutting against his belt, which had become a band of torturous pain. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the discomfort without stopping this... whatever this was.

Jake noticed, though. "Poor thing, that can't feel good. And I just want you to feel good. Here." He put down the lamington--how many had it been, now?--and oh God he was coming down to kneel at the side of the couch, his own arousal evident through his jeans as he reached out lifted David's shirt to unbuckled the belt. So gently, so careful of David's full tummy, threading the leather through with meticulous little movements that seemed strange with his large hands, pulling the double prongs gently out of the holes, sliding the belt loose. And then undoing the two buttons on the waistband, sliding the zip down carefully, so carefully, over swelled tummy and swelled crotch. The air-conditioned coolness was a blissful relief, and David was agonisingly aware of the tenting and wetness on his boxers. "There now, doesn't that feel better?"

He tried not to nod, tried not to be grateful. He had to stop this. There really could be someone up there any moment, and this was not just his belt. This was obscene and terrible, sitting there, almost choking on cake, coconut on his fingers and shirt, the shameful expanse of skin revealed, with its fall and hair and distension from overeating. But then Jake gave him that wonderful grin, golden as the sponge cake, and ran his fingers soothingly over the harsh red indents left by the belt, murmuring _poor pet._ Happiness and gratitude flooded through David, and he lowered the hand that wasn't still gripping a half-finished and forgotten cake, stroking his thumb down that lovely face. There was a scrape and tug of stubble against his fingers, and it was blissful. How long had it been since he caressed a face like that? Had his touch received with a head turning to kiss his fingers, not been impatiently shoved aside?

Even if they were caught, it would be almost worth the destruction of his career and the inevitable breaking of his heart when Jake tired of the game, just for this moment.

"Finish your treat, you gorgeous thing," said Jake, and there was a flutter of pain in his heart, a reminder that none of this was real, just some weird kinky game Jake was playing. No one, absolutely no one, thought David was gorgeous. He was still powerless to resist the order, lifting and chewing, only desperately sorry not be being hand-fed again, as hands ran over his stomach, squeezing and rubbing gently, as if hungry to explore every way the layer of fat moved over the strain of an overfed stomach. Moving up to the sides to dip and squeeze the roll of flesh there, sliding down again to trace the angry pearly-red stretch marks, running up and down him like snail trails. Pressing tiny kisses to them as he rubbed his face against the curve.

"Oh, _don't_ , Jake," David said, finding his voice at last after a swallow. "They're hideous."

"Wrong. I won't touch them if you say not, but they're sexy as hell, mate." The teasing, casual tone back in place of the awed breathlessness. "Stretching you out, allowing more of you into this world. I want as much of you as I can get, I want _all_ of you." There was a hitch in the words, belying the casualness. And that was it, this _had_ to be some kind of trick or joke or hallucination brought on by loneliness. They were friendly acquaintances, Jake obviously would have friends of his own age, he couldn't be kneeling in front of David, treating his stretch marks like they were precious. Like _he_ was.

David made up his mind to stand up, do himself up, say never to speak of anything again. But there was a hand lovingly slipping into his sensible cotton pants, expertly finding the leaking slit and caressing it. Thought and action were impossible other than biting his lip and trying not to whimper as the pre-ejaculate was carefully spread, before the head of his cock was pulled out from under the waistband.

"Oh, how cute. Look at how tiny it looks under your tummy," Jake said. David felt he should have taken offence. He was not exactly on the large side on that one body part at least, but it wasn't his fault, and there was no call to make comments. But Jake didn't sound mocking, more as though being small of length and girth was somehow endearing and arousing. It was so different to some of the other disappointed looks David had experienced that he couldn't quite make sense of it. Before he could make a coherent comment, Jake's tongue was lathing over him, both his large hands massaging David's belly as Jake licked and sucked.

All right then, they were definitely having sex in the library, their place of work, surrounded by novels about royalty and dating and murder and technology, the young models on the cover a glaring warning that he should not be doing this, that it was inappropriate, that it was so far over the line that the line could no longer be seen. And his mouth tasted of cake and chocolate and coconut, none of which was as sweet as the mouth on him, the hands on his belly pushing and stroking _just_ had enough.

Jake lifted his head, and for the first time the chocolate on his voice had melted and run, exposing the cracked surface beneath. "You're such a darling, you make me lose my fucking _mind_ ," said Jake, as if _he_ was the one being touched and sucked and cherished and tormented. "David, can I... can I..."

"Anything," he said, reckless, not knowing what he was promising, only that Jake could fuck him here on the library couch in the middle of the YA section if he wanted, at this point. He was in deep enough, and this would probably never happen again.

Jake pulled up and away, unzipping himself hastily and freeing his own cock. David longed to see, this might be his only chance, but he had just enough time to register that it was longer and thicker and a darker purple than his own before Jake's large hand was sliding over it in a few hard, long strokes. He came in long shuddering spurts all over David's belly, messier than David could have imagined, and stood there as if shocked, trembling.

David waited for the regrets and embarrassment and pushing him aside, the humiliation and almost didn't care. It had been worth it, to be touched like that, to know Jake of all people had been so worked up for him. _Over_ him. He could think of that always.

"Fuck," Jake said, eloquently. "If you could see yourself... God, you are wonderful." He drew his fingers through the mess he had made, gathering up all he could, and thrust his fingers into David's mouth. David, dazed by Jake's wondering expressing as much as anything, sucked and swallowed obediently. Jake's other hand slid into David's underpants and closed over him, spread wetness with what felt like trembling fingers then stroked him off. His rhythm was fluctuating and clumsy, his attention fixed on the lips and tongue cleaning his own spendings off his fingers, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

There was the salt-bitterness of Jake's semen in his mouth mixed with the lingering sweetness and coconut and it was too much, too much, and not enough. It was only when Jake surged up and finally--finally!--kissed him, pushingly eagerly into his mouth as if to gather the tastes, that his climax finally took him. He shivered uncontrollably as it took him, pulsing wetly on his underbelly.

"Oh, my _darling_ ," Jake said, voice warm with affection against his lips. He stood up, reached into his back pocket. "Christ, what a mess we made." He seemed delighted at the thought. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." He passed David a tissue, and applied one to David's belly himself.

"You had wipes to clean my fingers all along?" David asked accusingly.

The handsome bastard actually _twinkled_ at him. "Have to admit my way was more fun. " He cleaned up meticulously, with evident pleasure, gathering up semen and sweet and coconut. "Shit, I always fantasied about doing something like this. Never thought it would actually happen." He laughed a bit self-consciously, and David felt a cold weight in his over-full stomach. Of course. This had just been a fun adventure for the younger man.

Still, he was lucky to have had it. And Jake was so gentle, so caring, running the wet cloths over him in a way that certainly would pass for affection. There was nothing cruel in the boy, after all. He was a sweetheart, even if he wasn't David's sweetheart. David wished Jake would kiss him again, and knew it would be inappropriate to ask.

Instead, Jake tucked them both back into their clothes, neatly restoring them both to order. It felt strange being dressed by someone else like that, but comforting. The only difference was that Jake tucked David's shirt into his trousers before he strapped him into his belt. "Like seeing the proper shape of you. Now sit down and rest, you must feel awfully uncomfortable after packing all that way."

David sat dazed with food and sex, coming to himself, pulling his professional self back around himself like a warm cardigan as Jake took over the book trolley as promised, rattling happily away about his studies again. Restoring order, restoring their usual selves, as if nothing had happened and nothing had changed. Well, that was for the best. Better than mumbled apologies and excuses. Better than awkwardness and losing the good relationship they already had over a few hot moments. David could feel his normal mind coming back, as if awaking from a dream. He was the man he always had been, pleasant and intelligent and kind, yes, but not the kind to inspire passionate feelings, except as someone for a momentary thrill.

He closed the Tupperware, hiding it away. The only signs of what had happened were the used wipes, and once they were thrown away, it would all be vanished. If he wanted to cry every time he saw a square slice of cake, that would be his own secret.

"Shit, I got distracted, I need to get groceries," Jake said, pushing the empty trolley back. There. It was nothing. An adventure between friends, that absolutely should not have happened. He should be grateful, not feel like his heart was slowly ripping apart. "Gotta run."

"Yes, you should."

"You're working until closing, yeah? Pick you up after work and bring you around to mine? Seems a shame to waste all my plans to seduce you with my cooking."

David looked up, blinking.

"Why are you looking--oh, you didn't think I'd let you go so easily now I have you, did you?" And Jake looked--how was it possible that he was the one looking uncertain and scared? "I mean, unless you didn't want to be together..."

"I do." It came out fast.

"Thank God. You need someone to look after you for a change, I told you I was up for the job. For as long as you like. Forever, ion you like." He actually seemed nervous. "God, I was afraid I'd messed it all up by coming on too strong, I _know_ I shouldn't have done that."

"You sweet, perfect boy." All of a sudden he wasn't the one sitting there helpless, he was standing and putting his arms around Jake, pulling him close, not even worrying about the way his stomach pressed against Jake's flat one. From the way Jake sighed and snuggled closer, it wasn't something to worry about in any case.

"Knew you'd be cuddly," Jake said. "God, you have no idea, I was so bloody lonely when I moved here. This town, not even the customers meet your eye. Treat you like furniture. Thought I'd made a huge mistake moving here to be near Dad. Then I got the job here, and you made me coffee and smiled and listened to all my studies and.... yeah. You're lovely. Highlight of my day from the first day. Trying not to follow you around like a puppy dog. And _gorgeous_ , and yeah, I didn't know watching someone eat something I made could feel like that since I brought in biscuits for Anzac Day. Was yours from then. Why don't you tell me to shut up? I always talk too much."

"But, sweetheart, I'm your manager." Some desperate attempt to be professional still, although possibly the _sweetheart_ was inappropriate.

"Oh, yeah. That's why I was going to ask you out today. Came in to give notice. Got a job at the IT desk at uni, no more of this low paid shelving crap. But I'll _miss_ you. Can still study here and make sure you're well-fed, but I'd prefer the role of doting and extremely hot boyfriend, if you're hiring."

David tried to find something light and witty to say, and instead crushed him closer, kissed his cheek, moved his head and he _was_ being kissed again, or kissing, or they were both kissing each other.

"You _sweetheart_ ," he said again, as their mouths parted. "Is it really all right to love you?"

"I've been head over heels in love since first time you smiled at me," Jake said cheerfully, as if it was an ordinary thing to say. "Has anyone told you that you have a hell of a nice smile? I'd do anything for you when you smile at me. And voice. You have such a lovely voice. Like chocolate. What are you grinning at, love?"

"I'll tell you one day," David said, and turned his face to be kissed.

**Author's Note:**

> LAMINGTONS
> 
> Recipe stolen from [Taste.com.au](https://www.taste.com.au/recipes/lamingtons-2/1e80f6e8-a459-4b79-814b-cfeda0cf3116) All measurements Australian. Note that the sponge has to be made the day before.
> 
> Sponge cake:
> 
> 125g butter, softened  
> 1 cup caster sugar  
> 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract  
> 3 eggs  
> 1 3/4 cups self-raising flour, sifted  
> 1/2 cup milk  
> 2 cups desiccated coconut
> 
> Icing
> 
> 3 1/2 cups icing sugar mixture  
> 1/4 cup cocoa powder  
> 1 tablespoon butter, softened  
> 1/2 cup boiling water
> 
> * Preheat oven to 180°C/160°C fan-forced. Grease a 3cm-deep, 20cm x 30cm (base) lamington pan. Line with baking paper, leaving a 2cm overhang on all sides.
> 
> * Using an electric mixer, beat butter, sugar and vanilla until light and fluffy. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition (mixture may curdle).
> 
> * Sift half the flour over butter mixture. Stir to combine. Add half the milk. Stir to combine. Repeat with remaining flour and milk. Spoon into prepared pan. Smooth top. Bake for 30 minutes or until a skewer inserted in centre comes out clean. Stand in pan for 10 minutes. Turn out onto a wire rack. Cover with a clean tea towel. Set aside overnight. 
> 
> * Make icing: Sift icing sugar and cocoa into a bowl. Add butter and boiling water. Stir until smooth. 
> 
> * Cut cake into 15 pieces. Place coconut in a dish. Using a fork, dip 1 piece of cake in icing. Shake off excess. Toss in coconut. Place on a wire rack over a baking tray. Repeat with remaining cake, icing and coconut. Stand for 2 hours or until set. Serve.
> 
> * Use to seduce librarians, or for other intended purposes.


End file.
